Harry Potter and the Daughter of Ravenclaw
by NinthLaByRiNtH
Summary: This is a continuation of the series starting with the end of Book 6. Depending on my sources, this may contain spoilers to the 7th book. This story contains violence, some almost intense lovey scenes, implied almost rape, and mention of alcohol.


Chapter One: Last Looks at a Would-Be home

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Disclaimer: I do not own characters from any of the Harry Potter Series. Lydia and her family, minus the ravenclaw name and Rowena Ravenclaw herself, are my own characters. This story is from my mind only. Use this storyline in any of your writings and I'll effing chop your head or balls off, depending on if youre a guy or girl. If youre a guy you'll be a eunuch. if youre a girl, you'd be dummer than before. Carry on with your reading now!

Hello all of you. Please give this a chance even though it is dull right now. I'm trying to make this play out well, and in order to do that some parts of it must be boring and gray. Kind of like the real books. Hahaha. Depending on the validity of my sources, this may contain spoilers for the next book. It does, most definately, have spoilers for the books that come before number 7. I wish you well, please R&R.

-Suki

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The summer since the last day at Hogwarts had not been pleasant. Harry could no longer count down the days till the time he would go back again, so instead he counted the days until his birthday. Usually, he did not do this, but this was not just any of Harry Potter's birthdays: this time, he was turning 17. For a young wizard, their 17th birthday is something of great importance. It is on this day that wizards come of age. So, as one could imagine, Harry Potter was indeed quite excited. It had been a few weeks since he had left Hogwarts, but it seemed like much less, for whenever Harry closed his eyes, he revisited the last day of school, and the day before that, and the day before that: the days in which his world's last threads of clinging sanity left. The embodiment of these threads had been the chance of learning magic at Hogwarts, and the existence of Albus Dumbledore. Both of these things had been cruelly taken away from him. In his dreams, Harry revisited the cave in which he was forced to feed his dear professor poison that made him beg for death only to find that the object they were seeking was not there at all. He watched his return to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade. Watched as his professor was killed by Severus Snape, whom Harry had never trusted to begin with. He watched as the man fell, limp, from the roof of the tower, below a gleaming, hideous, writhing snake that twisted through the mouth of a skull. 

Today, however, he would leave the Dursley house, where he had been imprisoned every summer since he started at Hogwarts. He would be undertaking the task of destroying Voldemort's horcruxes, and killing him. He would return to the place of his birth, track down what was left of Voldemort's soul, and defeat the deatheathers that got in his way... And if his path crossed with that of Snape or Draco Malfoy's, they would suffer as well. Snape would die while some mercy would be shown Malfoy. Just a few more minutes and it would be the beginning of the end...

Harry looked at the clock that sat atop the side table that stood next to his bed. It was 6:23PM. 'Just a little more..,' he thought vaguely. Yes, it was true, he would be free of the people that resided in this hellish place forever. Sighing, Harry took a look around his room. It looked like it had not been cleaned in almost a year. Trash, old newspapers, and even more trash and laundry cluttered the floor. His desk was covered as well. Hedwig's cage sat atop the newspaper's Harry had received in the last few weeks and some he had neglected from last year. The topmost read:

**Young Girl Steals the Pendant of Ravenclaw**

**What's to Become of the Wizarding World when Children Become Adept in Theft?**

After months of nothing but false arrests and horrible mishaps, the Ministry has finally made what seems like a valid arrest. Miss Lydia Trisdale was arrested in Hogsmeade after someone saw the famous turquoise pendant of Rowena Ravenclaw around her neck. So far, the Ministry has yet to discover why she had this treasure in the first place, and how she acquired it. It seems unlikely that a girl of a mere 16 years of age could have stolen it. But then again, in such difficult times as these, it's not surprising to see something so sickening as a child thief.

It has been weeks since the girl was arrested but she still will not yield! It is amazing how some people are so stupid as to withhold information like this from the Ministry of Magic! It has been said that the young woman has even undergone intense questioning, which is rumored to include torture. So far, the Ministry has in unsuccessful in removing the pendant, either, which seems to have permanently stuck itself to the girl's skin. She claims that it is because she is a direct descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw! "The stories people will make up to keep from being accused are simply disgusting," says the chief questioner, Miss Dolores Jane Umbridge. "She will not, however, get away with it. It is the Ministry's duty..."

Here the article was cut off due to the cage standing on top of it. It had been scribbled on immensely. Beside it was a copy of the article, written in Harry's hand. Harry's eyes drifted to his wardrobe. A photograph of his godfather, Sirius, was pinned up on the door. The black and white photo winked and waved in Harry's direction, a smile plastered to the face of the gaunt man. Harry's eyes darted away from the smiling photo, standing he pulled it off the door of the wardrobe and put it in between the pages in his album that had pictures of his parents. He kicked open the trunk lying at the foot of his bed and placed the album inside carefully, then walked over to his desk and picked up his copy of the article. He folded that and stuck it in his pocket before going to the door, taking a look around his bedroom and closing it behind him as he made his way downstairs.

Harry's fingers drummed his fingers over the smooth surface of the kitchen table as he waited impatiently. A dull, pounding ache was developing behind his right eye and the fact that Dudley Dursley's stereo was blasting didn't help the situation at all. He sighed as he looked through the kitchen window and out at the darkening neighborhood of Little Whinging.  
Harry had the look of someone who was forced to be older than they are. His untidy hair was more ruffled than usual and his eyebrows were drawn together in an agitated line. His expression conveyed extreme annoyance and grief: something that was not common in most 17-yr-old boys. His expression darkened further when the large grandfather clock in the hall started chiming o'clock.

'They're late,' he thought sourly, his eyes turning back to the window to scan the empty street once more.

Sighing, he stood and stalked into the den. Vernon Dursely barely looked up as his nephew entered the room. Actually, the apprehensive sideways glance that he had shot the boy could barely even be called "looking up." Harry walked over to the fireplace, not acknowledging his uncle at all. He reached into his back pocked and withdrew his wand, to the great displeasure of his uncle, apparently, due to his sharp intake of breath, and muttered, holding it aloft.

"Accio floo powder," he muttered, glaring at nothing in particular as he uttered the incantation. Mr. Dursely could be heard getting up from his couch now and scurrying towards Harry.

"Put that away!" he whispered angrily, a vein pulsing in his temple.

"No, I don't think I will," said Harry airily, trying to control the rage building up inside him.

"Put it away, now, Boy!" he hissed, his face turning a light shade of maroon.

"Uncle Vernon, quite frankly I do not care what you want me to do in the least. I'm of age and I don't have to listen to rules anymore, so If you don't want that great mustache of your's burnt off your face, I suggest you stop arguing with me, because I'm going to use magic as much as I want," he snapped, glaring at his uncle's angry face. Vernon Dursely looked taken aback. Not once, even in all the time Harry had spent under his roof, had he been threatened so openly. Reluctantly, he backed down, settling for returning to his couch and muttering curses and empty threats under his breath, his face still an ugly shade of purplish-red. Harry grumbled, wondering vaguely if he had forgotten to open his door. Then, quite unexpectedly, he heard a grunt and almost-shouted curses from his room. He turned on his heal and with a loud _crack_, dissapparated.

"Ron?" he asked incredulously, having just apparated on a yelping Ron's feet.

"Hi Harry... Do you mind getting off my foot?" he gasped, tears coming to his eyes.

"Oh, yeah... Sorry, mate," he said, his previous annoyance at his and Hermione's lateness evaporating. It was then that he noticed that Hermione was standing a few feet away from them getting beaten over the head with a flying pouch of floo powder. Harry laughed and waved his wand, stopping the attack on Hermione's bushy head.

"Hello, Harry! Happy Birthday" she said, smiling, sparkling green powder clinging to her hair even as she battled to brush it out. Harry smiled and turned back to Ron, who was currently rubbing his foot.

"So was it you who was yelling up here?" asked Harry amusedly, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Well, yeah. I tripped over your trunk," he replied somewhat defensively. "We heard a bit of shouting from you, as well. That bloke of an uncle giving you trouble?" Ron asked with a grin on his face. Harry laughed bitterly, nodding slightly.

"Yeah... well... when are we leaving?" he asked, his previous anger at his uncle starting to come back to him. Hermione caught his change of subject and sensed the potential danger, quickly helping to avert Ron's attention from Harry's shouting.

"In about 20 minutes, judging from the look of your room... didn't you pack at all?" she asked with a hint of exasperation. Harry sighed and flicked his wand impatiently in the general direction of the mess littering his bedroom floor. Clothes, couldron, broom, various spell books and potion books flew pell-mell into Harry's trunk. Harry waved his wand over Hedwig's cage, muttering _evanesco _as he did so, making owl droppings and newspaper vanish instantly, leaving the white metal cage spotless. He repeated the incantation as he pointed at random items of trash still lying around before turning back to his packed belongings.

_"Reducto!"_ he said. Immediately the trunk and cage shrunk slightly. He repeated the spell several times until his things looked like they belonged in a doll house, then stuffed them in his back pocket.

"Now that took me about 2 minutes total, Hermione," he said teasingly. "Were you expecting me to pack up without magic?" he asked when she gave him a glare.

"Well, yes," she sighed. "Just because you're of age doesn't mean you have to use your magic for every little thing..." she trailed off, giving up on the hope of Harry not over-using his skills.

"Hermione, quite honestly I think that I've been deprived the use of magic much too long. I mean, I was almost expelled for using magic to save my own life. Surely you wont let me play around a bit now that I can do stuff without getting in trouble," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously. Hermione smiled and shook her head before walking to the door and opening it.

"Shall we go then? We asked Mr. Weasley to open your house to the floo network for a couple hours," she said, holding it open for Ron and Harry.

"Yeah. Come on Ron, and stop snogging my socks," he added jokingly, seeing one of his maroon socks stuck firmly to Ron's face. Ron's ears turned red at the jab and stood up grumpily, marching out the door first as Harry and Hermione laughed. Downstairs, Dudley and his parents were sitting in front of the television, watching the evening news.

"I'm leaving," said Harry cheerfully.

"Oh?" said Uncle Vernon sarcastically. "Where are you going? Are you finally leaving for good?" at this Ron and Hermione visibly stiffened and glared at the vast, ruddy man.

"I thought I would," said Harry, smiling like a Cheshire cat, "but maybe I'll visit... since you're so concerned, at least." Uncle Vernon got the hint.

"I wish you well, Boy," he said jerkily as Ron and Hermione continued glaring. Harry ignored his uncle at this point and turned on his aunt, who did not acknowledge him.

"Aunt Petunia," he said, his voice taking on a certain seriousness that made the room go still. The horsish woman continued staring at the TV.

"I'd like you to tell me about that night when you got the howler. Who was that?" he asked, ignoring her ignorance of him. Finally, she turned toward him, and surprisingly, it wasn't resent or hate expressed on her face, but a degree of sadness.

"No, Harry," she said tiredly. "I can't... Your mother... Lily left me something," she said, her eyes pointed determinedly at the ground. Aunt petunia started rummaging through her pockets as everyone, including Ron and Hermione, stared at her with either incredulity or confusion.

"Petunia, darling," said Uncle Vernon slowly, unsure of this sudden change in his wife. "Sorry Vernon," she said softly, pulling a small object from her pocket. It was a single gold ring with a diamond and rubies encircling the band. The smooth stones shimmered in the soft light of the room. Harry stared at it.

"What is this?" he said, reaching out for it but hesitating to touch it. His hand trembled almost violently. Petunia Dersely's eyes leveled with Harry's. For the second time in his life he appreciated that he was actually his mother's sister, and understood.

"Thank you," he said softly, taking it and conjuring a cloth from mid-air, wrapping it gently and putting it in his other pocket carefully, performing a small sticking charm so it would stay wrapped until he saw fit to take it out again. Vernon Dursely was sputtering in the background when Harry righted himself and walked back to Ron and Hermione's side. They both gave him questioning looks. Harry shook his head and whispered a soft 'later.'

"What did you do to my wife?" hissed, extremely bewildered as to why Petunia Dursley, a magic-denying, cranky, clean-freak, was showing an almost-kindness to their despised nephew. What was more befuddling was the fact that she had said her sister's name. It was even more angering that she had undergone this sudden change because of Harry's words. She had not even spoken Lily's when they were newly-weds. Hell, the freakish woman hadn't even been invited to their wedding.

"I didn't do anything," said Harry in a dangerously calm voice, trembling anger barely hidden.

"Vernon!" shouted Petunia, "Leave the boy be. He can blast your ass from here to France if he feels like it, and I don't want to have to pick up after you," she said moodily, rising from her seat at the sofa.

"B-but... Honey muffin... Surely this boy has done something to make you so... well... Agreeable to his um... abnormalities and your sist-" At this point Vernon's tirade was cut short by a very angry Aunt Petunia.

"DO NOT TALK ABOUT MY SISTER!" she shouted in a quivering voice. Harry tried to suppress a smile as his aunt passed him a small, very discreet wink. He sighed, mouthing a small 'thanks.' It was at this point that Ron decided to make his and Hermione's presence known again.

"Oy, are we going or not?" he said somewhat timidly, looking nervously from the purple-faced man and the rather upset aunt.

"Yeah," said Harry, turning back to his best friends. "Let's go." And with that, the three turned on their heels and disapparated with a loud _crack._

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Hello again everyone. I'm Suki. If you wanna review, send me an e-mail at or just review here. (the e-mail is only if you dont have an account) 

Either way please tell me what you think. I dont mind flamers. Really I dont... they just make me feel slightly bad. If you must flame, do so nicely and use lots and lots of cussing. Of course, if you dont have any good points, I wont like it at all.

I realize this chapter was rather dull, but this has actually been planned out and stuff, so please dont hate it. Give my story a chance. I have lots of kililng and stuff after the first few chapters.


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